


Careful, My Darling

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Bard/Reader Stories [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Hey could you pretty please do a really fluffy bard imagine, like maybe he catches when the reader about to fall into the lake or something along those lines and the reader get all flustered?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful, My Darling

Courting is a very complicated thing to you. It’s not like you never courted someone before, but you’ve never successfully courted someone before. Your previous attempts had ended in disaster, betrayal and a hardened heart. After your third failed attempt, you had promised your mother that you wouldn’t try to find your own love again. You would wait for your father to arrange a match for you, and spare them both further heart strain. But, not six months after the disastrous end of your last courtship, you had met him.

A delicate smile, gentle eyes and a loving personality. A tousle of wavy brown hair, a good deal of height to him and the strength of someone who worked barges. The looks hadn’t been the only thing to make you break your promise though. He had a carefree personality, a dedication to a job that he didn’t enjoy and seemed to love almost everything about you.

Bard was a true gentlemen, not something you could often find in a poverty-stricken town on a lake. He was courteous, polite, attentive and would rather run a harpoon through his kneecap than ever say anything to upset you. He also didn’t appear to mind your social and courting awkwardness, which was definitely a plus.

Your parents had been wary when you had first broken the news of the kind-hearted man. Bard had lost his entire family when he was very young, so had no financial support other than the money that his barge work pulled in. He was also seven years older than you, which although was not a great difference, was still enough to make your parents concerned. But he wormed his way into their hearts as quickly as he had yours, and he was soon able to take you for walks through the town and cook dinner for you (providing you were back one hour after sundown, of course).

Tonight Bard had decided to take you on a dusk walk of the outer piers. Summer was fast approaching and, whilst the wind still gave a brisk chill to the air, the rains had died down. You seemed to be the only people to walk the piers tonight, the distant Lonely Mountain softly illuminated by an orange-red sky. You walked silently next to Bard down a narrow walkway, water lapping at either side of the wooden support beams. Your footsteps, the water and the creak of the wood are the only sounds to be heard. Occassionaly one of you will ask the other about their day, but conversation is minimal.

It is peaceful.

Every now and then your arms knock against one another. Whilst previous people have taking this as a sign to initiate physical contact, Bard’s hands remain firmly in his pocket. He knows that you don’t like how clammy your hands get when you hold his hand, and he won’t force his hand in yours. It’s both sweet and comforting.

So you walk in silence, occasionally brushing arms, until something in your mind flares to life. “Oh, my mother would like you to come for dinner in three days. When you’ve finished work, obviously. And if you’re not too tired, of course.”

Bard smiles and stops walking, turning to look at you. “I would be honoured. Would your mother prefer yellow flowers or white flowers.”

“Yellow. She says they brighten up the home. But good luck in getting her to accept them, she won’t accept anything from anyone.”

“Well I’ll bring two sets for you then.”

You smile, and glance to the left as a strange noise catches your attention. It’s a low thumping sound, accompanied by a very dull click. Bard hears the noise as well and turns to look for the source. A moment later and four large, black pigs race around the corner. “Vald really needs to fix his pen!” you sigh, stepping back to allow the pigs to pass.

The first three careen past you with no problem but the fourth (far slower due to the increased weight that he carries) runs past with a bit of a swagger to him. His hind bumps into your shin and you wobble a little from the impact. You step back to steady yourself, but you’ve run out of room on the wooden walkway.

Your foot meets thin air and carries on past the level of your other foot. Your entire body starts to tip backward and your arms pinwheel uselessly.

You scrunch your face up and brace for the impact of the icy water, when your hands are suddenly gripped strongly in Bard’s grasp. He quickly pulls you towards him, wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you in half a circle, placing you down away from the offending edge.

“Are you alright?”

It’s only now, pulled flush against Bard’s chest, that you realise three things about him: he’s very warm, he’s stronger than you thought, and he’s taller than you thought. You can feel the heat already rushing to your cheeks and your tongue becoming heavy in your mouth.

“Ah, uh, th-thanks.” your try to look down at your feet, but realise that you only end up staring at his lower torso. You flick your eyes to the side, desperately searching out something else to focus on.

You don’t know if Bard smiles or not, but he releases you and carefully steps away. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” the air is uncomfortably cool on your front now that you’ve lost the body heat of the man you’re supposed to be courting.

Bard rubs the back of his neck and motions down the walkway. “Maybe I should get you home.”

You nod silently and allow him to lead the way, folding your arms infront of you. You walk in silence and you see Bard’s discomfort out of the corner of your eye, his arms hanging limply at his side. As you reach the start of the alley leading to your house you take a breath, reach out to him, and slip your hand into his.


End file.
